


In the Name of Love

by Gloomymake



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Actually do it if you want, Don't Judge Me, I feel nothing, I'm Sorry, Incest, It's not a huge thing but, M/M, Sibling Incest, Soulmate mention, Suicide, Yikes, but also not sorry, have I said that?!, like fuck, that's fine, they don't deserve this, they really don't deserve this, this is actually kind of angsty??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12450090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gloomymake/pseuds/Gloomymake
Summary: They didn't deserve this, but they suffered anyway.





	In the Name of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so yeah. This is short... like really short. Really really short. 
> 
> ...
> 
> But I feel like it deserves to be posted so here we are. I feel like this is a bit angsty but ???
> 
> Unbeta'd and written on mobile so??
> 
> Obviously this is about sibling incest but if you didn't know that then I'd like to ask you to read the tags and make sure this is your bag; if not then by all means, please go. 
> 
> For those who understand this and wish to continue, here you are.

"If they're both in love with each other, there ain't a damn thing wrong with it, is there?!" 

Alfred had heard that type of bullshit sentiment drip from the lips of the self-righteous more times than he could count. All was fine and dandy until he brought up the word that either created a gap or destroyed the stance they had been vehemently defending only moments before. 

Incest. 

The screeching had made his head hurt more than anything now. He didn't let their hypocrisy rub him raw like their sandpaper words had once, he simply ignored. Smiled and nodded, laughed and teased. He didn't give a fuck anymore. He couldn't wrap his mind around what type of person could fight for the rights of "everyone" only to conveniently dismiss or trample on a minority. The healthy minority, he used to argue, deserved the same respect didn't they? A mixed reaction, a pause occasionally, a snarl of distate more often than not. No matter the reaction, he had seen them all by now. He didn't bother fighting when he could simply walk away now; it wasn't worth the fight anymore. 

Mattie has suffered enough thanks to these people and Alfred wouldn't let the white-knights continue immolating their relationship or let them divide them now. They were welly and truly fucked up, he understood that. It wasn't normal by any stretch nor sense of the word but it didn't stop him from wanting to fuck his brother. He wanted him inside him, wanted to be inside him and he would be damned if he would let people who had no chips on the table draw cards and dictate what their relationship could or couldn't be. 

Alfred's own personal brand of poison came wrapped up in a package with a face eerily similar to his own, a body too familiar to go unnoticed. He got drunk on the elixir that was his brother and woke up without shame. Maybe the pain in his ass or throbbing in his brain was a karmic punishment; a taste of what was to come due to their acts. Far from disgusting in his eyes but terribly wrong and sickening to others, he had tried to shelter his baby brother from the shards and shrapnel of hate and disgust lobbed at them whenever they went out, whenever they sat too close, touched just a bit too often, and when they rested their heads in each other in the early-evening's fading light. 

He had convinced Mattie it was because they were the same gender that people stared and sniggered, why they looked disgusted or sickened, that it had nothing to do with the fact they shared a face too similar to be coincidental. He knew Mattie was smart, knew he knew the real reason for the muffled admonishments. He was far more intuitive than he had ever been, far more sensitive to the hate than Alfred was. He'd move to take his hand away from his, shame burning brightly on his face, tears brimming unshed in his watery eyes, and Alfred would tighten his grip, held him steady until they passed the people who couldn't know how much they hurt his baby brother, his soulmate. He'd burn with hatred for those people in those moments, wishing for them to experience the same shame they felt, the same level of absolute, unconditional love they were scoffing at and have it torn away from them. 

They couldn't be caught. If they were, it would be all over. He felt some relief in the fact he would be the one charged and tried for their acts, simply by virtue of being the older brother. Mattie would fight it, that he knew, he would cry, scream they both wanted this, that he wasn't forced. Alfred would say he had been manipulating him since they were young and Mattie would go free, a free pass for intensive therapy for survivors of these situations while Alfred would rot away in a cell. He would laugh, the cool grey tinting the corners of his vision increasing and encroaching on what remained of a world coloured by his soulmate's touch. Mattie would cry when his own vision began to grey, the greyscale hitting him faster than Alfred because it was always like that; Mattie getting hurt the most the most quickly. 

He would come and press his fingers to the plastic divider, stick his fingers through the holes, begging Alfred for his touch, panicking when Alfred smiled sadly and hung up the phone. He hoped Mattie could get through it as he would leave him there, pounding in the barricade separating them, turning his back on him, letting him go, begging him silently to forget about him, to embrace the greyscale like their parents had and simply live in a world without the colours he had seen since the day of his birth, since the day Alfred pressed a tiny hand against an even tinier cheek, since the colours blossomed before his eyes like a whirlwind. 

He would embrace the greyscale he had come to pity others for. 

It was proof of his resolve to fix Mattie, his soulmate. 

He would die in the cell, the sheets suspending his body just far enough off the floor to choke the life out of him, Mattie's name the last words on his lips, his face the last thing on his mind before he meets the blackness.

All in the name of love.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash and I know it.


End file.
